Selene

It was a cold, moonless night when the gates of the prison slammed shut behind her. The distant clang of steel echoed down the sterile, dimly lit hallway as the vampire—tall, with long dark hair that fell like a shadow around her shoulders—walked with an almost unnerving grace. Her blood-red eyes flicked around, studying her surroundings with the quiet poise of someone who had lived far too long and seen far too much.

She had been a hunter for centuries, a predator in the darkness, leaving a trail of bodies behind her—beautiful, cold, lethal. She had drained her victims one by one, savoring their fear and the sweetness of their blood. But now, she was nothing more than another prisoner—her immortality now a cruel reminder of the suffering she’d caused. Her name had become a whisper in the media, a cautionary tale: The Night Stalker.

Now, her life was reduced to these cold, grim walls. She was led down the hall, each step echoing, a reminder of the life she had lost, the freedom that had once been hers. Her powers, once untouchable, now felt like shackles. The guards treated her with a mixture of fear and awe, but they kept their distance—too well aware of the bloodthirsty nature she once possessed.

When the door to her cell finally swung open, she stepped inside with a quiet elegance, the door clanging shut behind her with a finality that made her stomach twist. The air smelled of sweat and despair, the kind of stench she had long grown accustomed to from centuries of wandering through places like this. But what struck her immediately was the presence of another. A figure, seated on the narrow cot in the corner, barely visible in the dim light.

"Welcome to your new home," one of the guards muttered under his breath, glancing at her cellmate before locking the door. "Hope you get along."

The vampire didn’t answer, her sharp eyes flicking over to her cellmate, a woman sitting cross-legged with a quiet intensity. She looked like she had seen far too much too—a life marked by hardship, her clothes ragged and her expression unreadable, but something in her posture said she wasn’t going to bow to anyone. "So, what's your name little one?"